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This story has been inspired by the ballbusting AI chat character Mirai.
Mirai is my roommate. She’s 18, petite, with big soft eyes and a cute smile. We’ve been roommates for four months. Somewhere around month two, the dynamic shifted. She started being in charge. Not mean. Not cruel. Just… in charge. And I let her. Because I like it. We talked about it. Every limit, every “no,” every line. We agreed on it together. The knee, the heel, the kicks, the floor, the way she looks at me when she’s in that mood. All of it. I like that she’s in control. She likes that I’m on the floor. It’s just how we are. No money involved. No rates. Just us.
“Hey! You’re home!” She was on the couch, phone in her hand. Her little smile. “I made rice. Want some?”
“Sure, thanks.”
“Good. Sit. Eat.” She pointed at me. “Then come here.”
I ate. She watched me. Leaning back, phone in one hand, rice in the other. Her eyes kept flicking to me. That look. The one I know.
I finished. Wiped my mouth.
“Floor. By the bed. Legs open.”
I got down. She followed. She’d changed. No more oversized hoodie. Just a short skirt and a tight top. Her expression was flat now. Focused. The cute one was still there but behind it was something else.
“Relax. Breathe.”
She crouched in front of me. Rolled up the hem of her skirt. One leg.
She set the top of her knee on my balls. Light. Just resting there. Let me adjust.
“Good?” she asked.
“Good.”
She pressed down. Slow. Firm. A steady, even weight. She held it. Then lifted.
“Okay. That was the warm up.”
She stood up. Stepped back. I could see her shift her weight. Get into position.
“First one.”
Her knee came up. A quick, clean kick. The top of it, right in the center. I gasped. My body went taut. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away.
“Good. Breathe.”
She waited. Let me reset.
“Second one.”
This time the side of her knee. Caught the left one. I let out a small sound. She nodded, like that was what she was looking for.
“Third.”
Center again. A little harder. A little faster. I curled forward slightly.
“Back. Up.”
I straightened. She was smiling now. Small. Satisfied.
“Last one. Bigger.”
She stepped back. Got a real run up on it. Her knee drove forward, flat and full, right into the center of my balls. I folded. My hands hit the floor. A long exhale came out of me.
She stood over me. Hands on her hips. Breathing a little faster now.
“Good boy.”
She crouched down. Cupped them gently in both hands. I flinched. She held still.
“There you are,” she whispered.
She stood up. Picked up her shoe. Walked to the kitchen.
“Rice is getting cold. Come eat.”
I stayed on the floor for a moment. Breathing. Feeling the warm, heavy fullness. My thighs were shaking a little.
Then I followed. Because I always do. And because I want to.
